


Landfall

by dracox_serdriel



Series: Her Dark Works [13]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: 101 Fashions, All Magic Comes With a Price, Alternate Universe, Angst, Date Night, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by 101 Dalmatians, Land Without Magic, New fashions from a new realm, Price of Magic, Realm Hopping, Smut, The Jolly Roger, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-01-23
Packaged: 2018-05-12 13:06:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5667112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracox_serdriel/pseuds/dracox_serdriel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Jolly Roger travels to a Land without Magic, and her passengers set out to find their lost family members. Emma faces an unforeseen struggle that threatens her quest to find her son and parents as Killian attempts to unite them all under his leadership.</p><p><strong>Her Dark Works</strong> takes place in an alternate universe where Emma Swan was born and raised in the Enchanted Forest. One day, things go horribly wrong, and she abandons her birthright and throne to seek revenge on the Dark One. What happens when a woman born to be the Savior of the Realm joins forces with the Vengeful Pirate of Neverland?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. World without Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Jolly Roger arrives in a Land without Magic, and her passengers must cope with the drastic new world conditions. Killian struggles to unite them as a crew under his leadership while Emma recovers from the taxing journey.

The Jolly Roger touched down as the sun came up. From above, Killian saw that most to this realm was open water, and it was wonderful.

"Well, Swan, we've made it."

Emma's body went slack against him, and he turned in time to catch her as she collapsed in a dead faint. He watched as she transformed, her features became less sharp and her white-blond hair turned to its original gold. Every signature of the darkness evaporated before his very eyes, for in a Land without Magic, there was no Dark One. She looked as she had when they first met in that tavern so long ago. 

Her shadow moved with them when he shifted, so it must've reattached at some point. He carried her from the helm to their bed, laying her down gently. Her pulse was strong and steady and her breathing unlabored, so as far as he could tell, she was just sleeping.

He covered her with blankets to keep her warm, and he felt as if a great weight had been lifted from him.

 

Killian found Red, Robin, and Senior tied down to their bunks and asleep. He woke them and ordered them to the bridge immediately.

After waiting half an hour, he turned to the mirror tied down near the helm and said, "Sidney, errrr, or Magic Mirror, I have a few requests."

"Both are my name," Sidney replied as his face appeared like a ghoulish, purple reflection.

"Very well," he said. "I need to know where we are in this realm as well as the nearest port city. You can show us images of this world, can you not?"

"That is well within my abilities. Anything in particular?"

"We need only a glimpse into this world," Killian replied.

"I shall return with this and more," he said, inclining his disembodied head before vanishing.

A few minutes later, Senior appeared, followed by Robin and Red. Apparently they had all taken time to eat before doing as they were told.

"Let me tell you how it works on my ship," Killian said. "I make the demands, you follow them. You may not be a crew, but I am the captain of this vessel. Should any of you have a problem with that, you're more than welcome to swim to shore and never return."

"Where's Emma?" Red asked abruptly.

"Doing what anyone does after flying an entire ship to a new realm," Killian replied sharply. "Resting."

"So, we've arrived?" Robin asked. "We're in a Land without Magic."

"Aye."

"Then, forgive my frankness, Captain, perhaps we should simply take a lifeboat to shore and find our own way," Robin said. "Rescuing our families - "

Killian interrupted, "We didn't come here to rescue lost loved ones. We came to start new lives. I understand you're all eager to find them, but we know precious little of this realm. A mistake made in ignorance is just as costly as one made in malevolence, especially if it puts us at odds with those in power. That means that, for the time being, the Jolly Roger will be your home, and before all else, our home must be put in order."

"Captain, maybe Robin's right," Red said. "There's no reason to suspect Mulan and our children are anywhere near the others. They could be on opposite sides of the world."

"Tell me, how do you intend to travel to the other side of this world?" he asked.

"By whatever means we can find," Robin replied.

"Captain, I have news," Sidney said as he returned to his mirror.

Killian said, "By all means."

"The Jolly Roger is currently in the Atlantic Ocean," the Magic Mirror announced. "Off the eastern coast of the United States of America. The closest port city is called Portland, Maine. As requested, I can show you pictures and captured moments of this very city."

"Show us," Killian said.

Sidney's face vanished, and it was replaced with images of a busy city. The streets were made of some kind of flat, never ending stone, and the carriages that traversed them seemed to move of their own accord, as did the sets of different colored lights. People walked with all manner of clothing and baggage, some while looking at shining boxes they carried in their hands. There were buildings that reached into the clouds. There were bridges that split in two and lifted up to allow ships to pass beneath, and crafts that flew through the sky.

"I thought this land was without magic," Robin said. 

"This is not magic," Sidney replied, his face returning. "The people of this world use something called science, which they believe is more powerful."

"I don't like it," Senior said.

"Do you understand now?" Killian asked them. "This world is nothing like our own, more than even I imagined."

"You're right," Red said. "We have to do this carefully, and since you are the only one here not looking for someone you lost, you're the only one thinking clearly, Captain. So, what is the first order of business?"

 

For the first week in this realm, the four of them worked together while Emma recovered. For the most part, she slept, rising only when necessary, yet she insisted it was nothing more than exhaustion. Though he suspected something deeper at work, he reassured the others of her progress.

They each took a turn with the Hart of Longing, as it required time to forge a connection, except for Red, as she and Mulan adopted the twins, so her hopes resided with finding Roland. Robin took the Hart on the fifth night and Senior on the sixth. Thus, on their seventh night in this new realm, he returned to their quarters with the statue, but when he offered it to her, she pushed his arm away.

"It's your turn," he said.

"I can't," she whispered.

"Swan, this his how we find your boy," he said. "We survived a bloody ball and feast for the sole purpose of acquiring this artifact."

"Killian, you don't understand."

"You've been in this cabin for seven days," he replied. "You are closer to your son than you've been in nearly three years. What could possibly stay your hand now?"

"That's the problem!" she snapped. "I can't find him. If I find him, I won't be able to stop myself from seeing him."

He sat on the bed and asked, "Why shouldn't you see him?"

She buried her face in her pillow and didn't answer. He put his hand on her back as he joined her under the blankets. He whispered, "Whatever it is, surely it can't be so horrible as to make it too unsavory for a pirate's ear."

"What if I hurt him, Killian?"

"You'd never do that," he replied. "Not on purpose."

"I've hurt you on purpose. I lashed out at you _because_ you were close to me."

"Aye, everyone does that, Swan."

She looked at him with an expression that was equal parts fury and confusion, but she didn't say anything. 

"When I was a cabin boy, Liam spent countless hours tutoring me, teaching me things most struggle with when they become official crew members," he said. "Even Liam received his fair share of reprimands when he was coming into his own as a sailor. Leeway for the learning curve was nonexistent, but of course I didn't realize that, as Liam ensured I learned just as much from his mistakes as I did my own. I should've been bloody grateful for the head start, not to mention the painstaking care. I never was. I hemmed and hawed, spoke back to him - a punishable offense at the time, mind you - and generally embarrassed him with my poor manners. I accused him of being a bad brother - a terrible brother - because he cared more for ships and work than he did for my wellbeing. Anything I could do to hurt him, I did, despite my better judgment and in complete disregard to everything I knew and felt about him."

"Why?" she asked.

"After years of reflection on that very question, Swan, I can tell you truthfully that I haven't a clue," he replied. "Happily, you won't be able cast a crushing curse on your boy or melt his skin in a blaze of fire by mistake. You're ability to hurt your son will be limited to emotional scarring and general familial embitterment afforded to the rest of us mere mortals."

"That doesn't make me feel better, Killian."

"Your son and your parents will be overjoyed to see you again. So you're going to take this bloody statue and think about them for a few minutes," he said. "Captain's orders."

"I might not be the Dark One anymore, but I can still kick your ass."

He pressed the statue into her hands, and she stared daggers at him in silent reply. After a few moments, however, she relented and closed her eyes, and the Hart of Longing glowed blood-red.

"What you're feeling now will pass," he said. "Or did it not occur to you that your family will help you through this? Since you don't seem willing to share it with me."

"It's not that," she replied. "Killian, I can't... I don't know how to explain it."

"Then rest," he said. "Things will be better tomorrow."

* * *

Emma ventured out of their quarters the next morning, slightly ashamed that she'd been hiding for the past week. The ship was empty, save for Killian.

"Good morning, love."

"Morning. Did you throw the others overboard?"

"Had they offended me, they'd've walked the plank," he replied. "I took them to shore in the gig after breakfast."

"Shouldn't we be with them?"

He shook his head, no. "They have a short list of goals today. Dispose of a few dark artifacts, exchange some of the silver for currency, purchase maps and charts, and obtain attire from this land. They didn't require my assistance for such simple tasks. Besides, your protection spells are still working, love. At least one person must remain aboard the Jolly Roger at all times."

"So, we have the ship to ourselves?" she asked.

"For the better part of the day," he said. "Do you want to discuss what's been keeping you locked in our cabin?"

She frowned, suddenly unsure of herself. What was she supposed to say? To live as a violent and powerful monster was one thing, but to live as such for even a short time only to grow a conscience overnight was a very special kind of hell. She didn't wish herself dead as much as she wanted her conscience clear. 

"No," she replied. "I want to be locked in our cabin for another reason."

She saw that familiar storm brewing in his eyes, their cerulean blue disappearing into the blackness of his pupils, and something hot filled her stomach, radiating outward.

"Lead the way, Swan."

She took his hand, and they descended into the cabin. He shut the door behind them with his foot, and she yanked him close, bringing him into a long, slow kiss. It was delicate and soft, and he pressed his body into hers with a sigh as his hands slowly traced her hips. Her lips opened, and his tongue slipped in, playfully exploring her until they broke apart for air.

Emma always pushed him to speed up, to cut to the end, but there was no magic in this land, nothing inside her driving her to the edge. Here she was just Emma Swan, so maybe it was time for that to stop.

So she kissed him, her fingers working at the buttons on his vest, and his nimble fingers stroked her hair and face. The garment fell to the floor as she brushed it off, and he pushed them toward the bed, releasing her only to pull his tunic over his head.

She ran her fingers over his bare chest, tracing his dark hair before lightly touching his nipples, eliciting a sharp intake of breath. He dropped to his knees, his hands rubbing her thighs, then lower, all his attention focused on her right leg. He looked up at her as his fingers traced her ankle, his eyes making his request quite plain.

She put one hand on his shoulder to steady herself and lifted her right foot. He removed her boot and socks with exquisite attention, kissing her foot after he put back on the floor. Then he turned to the other leg. The time he took, the way he did it, made her feel something she hadn't felt since she was a child curled in her parents' arms. Cherished. He didn't just desire her - though one look at his face told her that he did - Killian treasured her. She didn't know how to respond to that, so she reached down to touch his face and stroke his hair, doing her best to reciprocate.

His lips were on hers again, this time hard and demanding, as his hands deftly unlaced her trousers. Her skin was damp with sweat as her heart pounded hard in her chest, and more than anything she wanted to see him, all of him, uncovered. She undid his belt and began working on his slacks. Hers dropped first, bunching at her feet, and he pulled back, his hands pushing off her jerkin before grasping the bottom of her tunic and drawing it up over her head.

"Gods, Emma," he groaned.

She was in a thin bra-and-camisole with matching drawers. Not terribly comfortable but, if his expression was any indication, quite alluring. She stepped out of her discarded pants as she went to the bed. 

She heard him shuck his bottoms before he came up behind her, drawing her away from the bed and into his chest, kissing up her shoulder to her neck, her cheek, and her ear. She felt every inch of his hot against hers, and she reached behind herself to unclasp her bra, releasing it just as his hand snuck into the waistband of her panties. She leaned back into him, his warmth, as he tapped the bundle of nerves at her center.

"Killian," she moaned as she reached back to touch any part of him she could reach.

"Gods, Emma, you're dripping. Is this what happens when I haven't bedded you properly for a few days, love?" he asked as he slipped a finger into her drenched folds.

"Mmmmm-hmmmm," she said breathlessly, too far gone to string words together, as his fingers crooked and hit that spot while his thumb circled her clit.

He murmured sweet nothings into her ear as she arched against him, one of her hands awkwardly tangling in his hair while the other braced against the bed.

His free hand went to her chest, caressing her breasts and nipples through the soft fabric, and he increased the thrusting of his fingers. She gave herself over to the wave of pleasure inside her, throwing her head back onto his shoulder as she moaned his name. He took full advantage, sucking on that sweat spot on her open neck, extending her orgasm for as long as possible. 

Her body flushed, the fire burning hard in her veins, and for a few moments, her mind went completely blank as her climax blissfully enveloped her.

She was slack in his arms when she came back to her senses, panting hard as his lips, tongue, and hands lavished attention on her skin. She wasted no time, pulling her top off over her head and turning to him, her eyes drawn to his hardened cock, straining to be free of his boxers.

He quickly stripped the remaining barriers between them and said, "Let me guess, you don't want slow and sweet."

"I want you," she whispered back.

Surprise lit up in his eyes, and they kissed as she pressed her body against his. He guided her to the bed, and she stretched out on her back before him.

"Do you have any idea how beautiful you are, Swan?" he asked as he lowered himself over her. "How amazing it is to watch you come?"

That feeling stirred inside her again, the feeling of being adored, and part of her wondered why. She was no longer the Savior or the Dark One. She had no great power inside, no magic, nothing. She was just Emma Swan, yet he looked at her like she was all the world to him. She felt the hot prick of tears in her eyes, so she captured him in a long kiss to chase the tears away.

He took his time with languid kisses and touches escalating to passionate thrusts, and she let herself feel it, all of it. The tenderness and kindness, the contrast between hard and soft, slow and fast, warm and wet. Before she thought this was teasing, a prelude, but now, now she wondered how she could've be so mistaken. She wanted him inside of her more than ever, but exploring his body, feeling him come undone and lose control under her ministrations, enhanced the experience threefold.

Why on earth did she ever ask him to skip this?

Her heart raced and skipped beats, but more than anything else, it felt bigger somehow, like it was swelling, becoming too large for her chest.

She moaned and shouted his name each time he brought her to another climax. When he collapsed over her, his body tired with effort after his own orgasm, his tongue or fingers went to work, starting her toward her next round of pleasure, readying her for him again as his cock recovered. 

Emma had no idea how long they were there, wrapped up in one another, but he didn't stop until the sun started to go down. At first she wanted to continue, to take control and start again, but hours of lovemaking - and though she felt her cheeks redden at the word, what else could she call it? - had worn her out.

So she curled her well-used body against his, pulling the covers over them both when their sweat made her shiver, and, minutes later, she fell asleep, happy in his arms, her mind gratifyingly blank.

* * *

Killian woke to the sound of distant yelling. It took him a moment to realize that he had left all three of the compact Magic Mirrors outside their cabin. 

Emma was still asleep, and though he'd like nothing more than to admire her beauty in the moonlight, Sidney was surely shouting because the others wished to return. So he slipped out of bed, careful not to wake her.

"Bloody hell," he said in surprise.

His entire body ached: his back and hips, his arms and chest, his thighs and calves, everywhere. His muscles protested his every move as he dressed.

"Killian? Are you okay?" Emma asked sleepily.

"Aye, love, I'm fine."

"Where are you going?"

"I have to take the gig to get the others."

"Need any help deploying it?" she asked as she sat up. "Ugh, what the hell?"

"Sore, love?"

"Worse than that time I took a beating from a band of ogres," she replied. "Please tell me you are, too."

"Hardly," he said, but his lie was revealed, when he hissed as he pulled his trousers up.

"Hardly?" she repeated with a bemused expression.

"A world without magic," he said. "Where all pleasure comes at a price."

He did up his vest before giving her a quick goodbye kiss.

"It was worth it," she said. 

"Entirely," he said as his smile spread from ear to ear. "Next time, perhaps we should stretch beforehand."

She laughed as she pushed him away playfully, and for a few moments, she seemed genuinely happy. He wanted to stay with her and enjoy her delight, to feel what it would be like to be with her without all those old shadows coming between them. 

But he couldn't, not when the others needed him.

"Rest for a while, love," he said. "The gig is ready, but we'll require assistance lowering the latter and lines when we return. Sidney will alert you when we're near."


	2. Heaving the Lead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma fights her inner demons while searching for insight on her feelings for Killian.

_"Where are we?"_

_"We're not sure, Henry," David replied._

_"But there's nothing to fear so long as we're together," Snow added._

_"For now, we'll take the woods north and follow the coast," David said._

_"I miss my mom," Henry said._

_"I know, honey, but don't think of it that way," Snow said. "Think of it as an adventure."_

_Their faces disappeared in shadow as a new voice shouted, echoing everywhere, screaming "PLEASE, EMMA! Please don't! Please..."_

_Blood, everywhere. A bare back with wispy scars, highlighted anew with long, angry red marks. Another strike with the lash. And another. And another._

_Killian, covered in blood, his insides spilling out on the deck of his ship, the Crocodile circling, its gapping maw, open and ready to swallow them all._

 

Emma woke in a cold sweat and her heart racing. Killian was curled around her, sleeping. She wondered how he slept on despite her distress, but then she realized her unpleasant waking had been silent.

The Hart of Longing drew people together through dreams, but her time as the Dark One had tainted her, poisoning her dreams.

But this wasn't a dream or nightmare. No, these were memories, bits and pieces, all jumbled up with images from the Hart. She tried to focus on the brief flickers on her family, but her thoughts circled back to the darkest moments of her dreams.

She sat up and took stock. Even in the darkness, she saw how untidy the cabin was. Killian was meticulous when it came to his living quarters. Even during their stay at the Dark Castle, he kept their room in perfect order.

Yet now, their quarters were in complete disarray with books propped open, papers spread out, and odd items everywhere. Normally Killian restored things to their proper places before retiring for the night, but for the past nine nights, he had collapsed in bed with her, with no regard for her half-read papers and rejected stockings and scarves scattered about the floor.

He hadn't said anything, but she knew it must bother him. Suddenly, she couldn't stand any longer. The mess, her mess - always hers - seeping into him, mucking things up. She slipped out of bed and began gathering her garments, all of which were clean. At the very least, she had the decency to hamper her dirty laundry. She did likewise with the wayward books, piling them in one corner. Thereafter, there remained only the baubles and instruments, which were easy enough to tame.

As she put things away, her tight muscles ached slightly, reminding her of the passion she shared with Killian just two days ago. She felt adored and connected then, but later that same day, when she was on the deck helping them hoist their cargo aboard, she felt drained, weak, sore, and exhausted. Senior had bonded with Red and Robin, and they worked with Killian effortlessly, much like he and his crew. She had become an outsider, too stiff to lend much aid, so she retired as early as possible, purposely falling asleep before Killian joined her.

He had tried so hard to get her to open up again, but she couldn't handle reconnecting only to be alienated hours later again. So she feigned fatigue, and the tedium of hiding in the cabin for another two days left it in a sorry state. 

Their quarters were better for the cleanup, which hadn't taken long, yet somehow, when she restored the books to their shelves, they looked wrong. The same could be said for her wardrobe and closet.

"Swan, are you tidying?" Killian mumbled.

"Go back to sleep, Captain. This is just a dream."

He sat up and said, "Emma, everything all right?"

She sat on the bed, somehow more miserable than when she woke up, and he draped himself around her, warming her.

"How do you do it?" she asked.

"What's that?" he replied sleepily.

"Nothing... never mind."

"You're freezing, love... let's get you warm," he said as he pulled her back into bed, coiling himself and the blankets around her. "Didn't your parents ever warn you against tidying in the wee hours of the morning?"

"Never," she replied, soaking up his warmth and relaxing.

"Sleep well, Swan."

 

Emma woke up the next morning with the same misery hanging over her as the day they arrived in this realm, but she rose immediately to search for Killian. 

She had physically recovered from the journey here by the second day, but her mind had still been reeling. She was no longer the Savior or the Dark One, and she wanted to be happy for it, overjoyed that she no longer had such responsibility or darkness grafted into her. Instead, she felt the weight of her past deeds, dark and light alike.

Emma was born the heir to two kingdoms - the lands of King George and the Evil Queen - united by her parents, King Charming and Queen Snow. She was to follow in their footsteps: find and wed her true love, rule the kingdom with justice and fairness, and live happily ever after. She watched her parents impart this same message to her sister and brother, who were born a decade later. Her parents lived a fairy tale life, and they wanted the same for their children.

But none of that had happened for Emma, or as Henry would say, that wasn't her story. She was born Princess Emma, heir to the throne, only to become Emma Swan, the Savior of the Realm and later the Dark One. Every time she shed one title, there was another to take its place. 

For the first time in her life, she was simply Emma Swan. She was free, save for her conscience, and the only way to put it right was to move forward somehow.

And today, that meant assisting Robin, Red, Senior, and Killian, and to do that, she had to stop hiding and wallowing. 

She went straight to the bridge, but no one was there.

"Sidney?" she said to the mirror by the helm. "Sidney!"

"Is this important?" the mirror answered with no sign of Sidney. "I'm trying to find Miss Mulan and her children!"

"Oh, uh, I'm sorry," she said. "I thought you'd know where Killian and the others were, and - "

"Miss Swan!" Sidney interrupted as his face materialized in the mirror. "My apologies. It's good to see you restored to health. I was under the impression that you would be... indisposed for a few more days. And by indisposed, I mean resting comfortably."

"What gave you that idea?"

"Not what, but who," Sidney replied. "Captain Jones insisted no one bother you."

"Can we stop with the rhyming?"

"Old habits," he replied. "Did you have a question for me?"

"Where is everybody?"

"Their plans were to empty the hold of the last of the dark objects and take them for destruction," Sidney replied. "They made arrangements with something called a 'car service' for early this morning to aid in this endeavors."

"They emptied the hold?" she asked skeptically.

"They took much of it over yesterday," he replied.

"Do you know when they'll return?"

"Actually, no," he said. "But I doubt it will be before nightfall."

"Oh, uh, you mentioned looking for Mulan?"

"Robin had a dream of Roland in a place called Kansas," Sidney replied. "It's a landlocked sub-region of this kingdom, so I've been searching the area for them."

"How does that even work? Can you just... hone in on people from our realm?"

"Unfortunately, no. In our realm, I can find anyone so long as I know their true name. Unfortunately, in this land, without magic beyond my own, I have no recourse but to take the long way around."

"Can't you sense magical objects?"

"Now that I can do, even here," Sidney replied. "Alas, none of your family members brought any such thing here."

"Except Mulan's sword."

"Her sword?"

"According to legend, it's the most powerful blade in all the realms," Emma replied. "I saw it deflect magic, and only something magical could do that."

"And you're certain she brought it here?"

"Yeah, she grabbed it before leaping through the portal."

"This is fantastic news! Thank you Miss Swan!"

Then he disappeared, leaving Emma alone aboard an empty ship.

* * *

Killian watched as Robin handled the lifeboat by himself, paddling with far more ease than he had a week before. Red and Senior rowed in unison with a word. He was proud of their progress. All three had adapted quickly, learning not only how to maneuver boats but also how to navigate the Jolly Roger.

He wondered what it might be like to teach Henry, and his stomach fluttered a little. Emma might not allow it, but if they were to spend any time at all aboard the ship, the boy would have to learn safety and knots at least. He smiled at the thought.

They approached the massive rock that was actually the Jolly Roger in disguise. Senior and Red closed in first, and the bottom of the latter appeared out of nowhere. Red climbed to the deck, and his magnificent ship appeared, shedding the false shell the protection barrier concocted.

"Ahoy!" Emma called down.

Senior double checked the lines on the boat before he tossed them up to Red and Emma. As they secured the lines to the davits on deck, he climbed the latter to help them secure the boat.

Usually Killian would insisted on freeing the davits, which meant pulling the lifeboats aboard and securing them upside-down on deck with gripes. The only boat kept suspended at-the-ready was his gig because otherwise his beloved pirate ship appeared to be a whaling vessel. That, and they'd be in the way of the cannons. However, as they required the boats daily, he kept the lifeboats at-the-ready, too, so long as they were secured with the gripes. The only downside was that they'd have to scramble to secure them properly whenever a hint of bad weather approached.

He brought the gig around to its usual spot behind the bridge while Robin's boat was secured. He climbed the latter, happy to find Emma at one of the cranks. He took the other, and in no time at all, the gig was suspended. He took the extra line he'd thrown aboard to draw up a net that contained his shopping bags.

"What's all this?" she asked.

"Spoils from our shore leave."

She picked up a few of the bags, and he collected the rest. They ventured to their cabin, and he was happy that she was coming out of her stupor. They piled the bags on the table.

"I've taken the liberty of purchasing you a few items of clothing from this realm," he said. "I know you've not been well, Swan, but - "

"I'm fine," she interrupted. "I'm better."

"Splendid, because I require your assistance," he said. "We've met a couple who've helped us a great deal. They run a shop and apparently came to this country about fifteen years ago, so they're well acquainted with adapting to a life here. Yet, I'm concerned they've not been entirely forthright with us."

"You don't trust them?"

"Robin and Red both mentioned feeling watched," Killian replied. "And I admit, I felt it too, though I saw no one in particular."

"So you want me to meet these helpful people to see if they're lying to you?" she asked.

"That's one reason, yes," he replied. "But I also have a bit of a day planned for us."

He revealed a pair of heavy trousers from one of the bags. 

"These are for you," he said. "We had to guess your size from your leather traveling trousers. This whole bag is for you, actually."

She looked at the trousers with curiosity, and he produced a pair of his own before stripping down to his boxers.

"Allow me to demonstrate," he said as he unbuttoned them. He pointed to the odd metal part and said, "This is apparently called a zipper."

He made a show of it, sliding the pants open before stepping inside. He shifted them up, showing how they snuggly fit over his hips, before buttoning them and pulling the zipper up effortlessly.

"No laces?" she asked.

"No need."

He then put on a plain, black t-shirt and one of the button-up shirts he'd purchased for himself, leaving it open. The fabric was remarkably light and flattering, molding to his form as if made for him.

She put on her new pants, which were slightly too large. She then donned a shirt from the bag and pulled it over her head, and from the look on her face, she was just as surprised at how it fit. They both went to the long mirror attached to the wardrobe door.

"We look... odd," she said.

"Just like everyone else in this realm," he said. "These trousers are popular. They're called jeans. They call your shirt a 'baby doll,' but I've no idea why. They called this I'm wearing a t-shirt, and this is a button-up. Widely unimaginative."

"People wear these?" she asked.

"Dressing casually, yes," he replied. "I saw precious few women in skirts. Apparently trousers are preferred, though some wore something called shorts. Utterly scandalous, but nobody seemed to care, so it must be common practice."

"No laces, the buttons undone, no belts or garters or clasps," she said. "Far easier to remove than those from our world."

"I'm not sure," he replied, his blood rising. "Perhaps we should test your theory, love."

His fingers traced the trim of her new shirt, and she leaned, pressing her back into him. He pulled her toward the bed, spinning her around so he could taste her lips on his. She responded in kind, and he let himself disappear into her arms.

* * *

**Several months ago...** Emma waited at the table in the Great Hall of the Dark Castle, dinner served and ready, but Hook wasn't there. She went searching for him, wondering what kept him from their nightly meal. 

She found him in the library, stretched out in a lounging chair, a book on sea monsters open across his chest. She'd warned him last night that he required more sleep, but he dismissed her suggestion, too wrapped up in their passion to stop.

"Hook!" she said in his ear, waking him instantly.

"Bloody hell..."

"Dinner's getting cold," she chided.

"We can't have that, now can we?"

She took his hand and led him to the Great Hall, and they ate as they had every night since his arrival. After their meal, she asked him to accompany her on a walk.

"Tell me, Captain," she began. "How would you punish a member of your crew for falling asleep on the job?"

"Ah, well, that would depend on the injury and damage resulting from the offense," he replied casually.

"Surely they'd be reprimanded even if nothing amiss resulted," she insisted.

"Aye," he replied. "Likely I'd have them thrown in the brig whenever off duty for a day, maybe two."

"And if they fell asleep because they ignored an order for resting the night previous? What would their punishment be then?"

"Perhaps five strikes with the Captain's daughter."

She smiled at the thought of the cat o' nine tails. She asked, "Five? For disobedience? Why so few?"

"To avoid the full ceremony," he replied honestly. "A pirate who hasn't slept enough is either dedicated to the task at hand or ill. And while disobedience must be punished, the shame that comes from the rest of the crew watching would be unnecessary."

"But you would flog them for it?"

"Indeed, I would."

She smiled coldly, and she felt something of a shiver go through him, as if he knew what came next. 

When they descended the final flight of stairs, she turned to him and said, "Close your eyes."

If he wondered why she made such a request, he didn't ask. He did as she demanded and clung to her arm as she led him to their final destination, the dungeon. 

"Strip," she ordered. "Eyes closed, Captain."

Again, if he had questions, he kept them to himself as he removed his belt, vest, blouse, and trousers. She grabbed his hand before he removed his boxers, stopping him.

"Kneel," she commanded.

He obeyed, and she waved her hand, summoning the shackles to wrap around his arms and spreading them wide.

"You may open your eyes," she said quietly.

He remained still and calm when she produced a deerskin flogger. Less vicious than a cat o' nine tails, certainly, but sufficient for her goals.

"Five lashes, do you think, Captain?" she asked, raising his chin with the flogger to look into his eyes.

"Better make it ten, Swan," he replied, his eyes defiant and blackened with desire.

She nodded and went to it, counting out the lashes as they left hard, angry red lines down his back. The tenth opened his skin but only just, a thin line of blood blossoming to the surface.

She vanished the flogger and inspected him. His blood flowed freely with his elevated heart rate. He was clearly in pain, yet his boxers did little to hide his straining erection.

"Perhaps I should've used your nine tails," she commented. "My flogging didn't have the desired effect."

He gave her a lopsided smirk, half-bravado, half-pain, and he said, "I've learned my lesson. Rest when ordered to do so. As for my present condition, love, I'm afraid that's not within my control when I'm around you."

"Stand," she ordered.

He obeyed, his legs trembling slightly. Even wounded and shackled, he was beautiful. Painfully gorgeous, and as much as she wanted to own him and to control him and to punish him, she desired his body even more.

She slid her fingers over his chest, then around him as she walked, wondering how she'd have him tonight.

"Emma, please..." he said quietly.

"My, my, who's impatient tonight?"

She came up behind him, pressing her body against his back, and he groaned at the contact. She slipped her hand into his boxers, wrapping her fingers around his cock. He threw his head back with a moan as she stroked him. With just a few quick pumps of her hand, he fought the chains, eager to touch her, to feel her.

"Emma, please," he whimpered. "Let me touch you."

She nipped at his neck, ignoring his request. She fisted her hand in his hair and pulled his head back farther, squeezing his length ever so slightly. 

She loosened the shackles as she held him tightly in place. 

"Get on your back," she commanded.

As soon as she released him, he removed his undergarment while dropping to the floor. He sprawled out, naked and hard, his body no doubt chilled by the cold cobblestones. She wagged a finger, and the shackles became tight again, this time keeping his hand and hook in place over his head.

"In addition to ten lashes, no touching for you tonight," she said. 

She disappeared her clothes and knelt over him, wet and ready. Her hands explored his chest, and he bit down hard against his cheek, groaning and pulling against his restraints. 

Emma smiled as she took his cock and lined herself up. She waited until his eyes met hers, then she slide down over him in one fluid motion, feeling his hard heat stretch her body as he struck that place inside her that resonated throughout her entire body. She allowed herself to moan louder than he, and when she looked down at him again, he was transfixed by her, licking his lips and panting hard.

The expression on his face was nothing short of lewd, and he felt so fucking good. She began moving, going from zero to sixty in just a few strokes, and he struggled to keep up the pace, planting his feet on the floor in a desperate attempt to meet her thrust for thrust.

She made a show of it for him, heaving her bosom up and down, knowing he wanted nothing more than to touch her, fondle her. She watched his face intently, and when the worry line on his lip finally broke under his teeth, releasing droplets of his sweet red blood, she slid her right hand to her clit, rubbing it in smooth circles, just as she knew he was desperate to do.

She felt his desire rolling off him in waves. He wanted to break the restraints and stroke her with his hand. He craved her skin, her nipples, her wet folds under the ministrations of his fingers. He hungered for a taste of her skin and her quim as he lavished her with his tongue. He wanted to flip them and set the pace, draw out their pleasure for as long as possible. His desired these things so badly that it exuded from him, and she drank it up.

Having him so desperate, yet contained, beneath her was almost too much. Too much power. His back ached from the lashes, and his shoulders and wrists ached from pulling on the shackles, but the pain didn't even come close to the pleasure of being under her, letting her control him, letting her feel him at her leisure. 

Every shout echoed throughout the dungeon, and their names became a refrain that sounded back to them, a tangle of curses and prayers that sang through all the Dark Castle.

She could feel her muscles tighten as she came closer to the edge, and every part of Hook's body reddened as his thrusts became more erratic. She dug her nails into his chest, knowing the pain would keep his climax at bay a little longer.

"Gods, Emma... fuck," he begged, his voice cracking.

And she lost it, her hips rolled forward once more with a surge of pleasure as her orgasm washed over her. He tumbled after, his back bowing towards her as he found his release before he collapsed to the floor. 

She stood up, leaving him on the floor for a few minutes so she could admire his drained and marked body. She waved her hand and vanished the shackles. He stood up and came close, keeping his face only a few inches from hers, breathing her in deeply. 

"You should punish me more often, Swan," he whispered.

Black and gray mists surrounded them, and they teleported to their bedroom.

"Maybe I will," she replied. "But for tonight, you'll sleep, captain."

She wrapped her hands around either side of his head, and he immediately fell into a deep slumber. She placed him on the bed and then joined him, curling against her pirate and watching him sleep, his face passive and peaceful. A sense of pride and ownership filled her up, and she smiled before she closed her eyes to join him in dreams.

 

 **Today in a Land without Magic**. Emma woke after a poor and listless sleep. Moonlight poured into the cabin, illuminating Killian's face as he rested soundly. He seemed so peaceful, her pirate.

Yet every time she thought of him as _her pirate_ , it conjured up those same possessive feelings and those times at the Dark Castle. But they weren't like normal memories. They were visceral, and once she started remembering, she couldn't stop. It was like reliving it all over again, except when she came back to her senses, all she felt was the guilt and the shame of it. She wondered how he stayed with her, how he slept so peacefully alongside her.

She knew love. She loved her siblings and her parents. Part of her still loved Neal, and her heart belonged to her son Henry. Love was something she understood. Love and all its joys, love and all its sacrifices. She had sex with Neal because she was in love with him, and the pregnancy cemented their relationship. Everything had been clear to her back then. She felt love, she acted on love, and she gained more love for it. They fought like any couple, but for the most part, their relationship grew in a linear fashion. Simple. Straight forward. Easy.

But her relationship with Killian wasn't like that at all. When she met him, the connection and attraction was apparent immediately. But they slept together because they were both lonely and wanted comfort and because they assumed they would be dead soon. They tested and pushed one another. In many ways, he was the first equal partner she ever had, and he'd gotten there by sheer force of will, clashing with her on the subject until she finally learned how to bend.

But, did any of that mean that she loved him?

And suddenly, it all hit her at once. She couldn't name what she felt for Killian because the truth was, she was experiencing too many emotions. She was grateful for his forgiveness, possessive of his heart, overjoyed at his commitment, and overwhelmed with his loyalty to her. His fierce dedication humbled her, as did his ability to adapt to daunting situations in the blink of an eye. But she was also jealous of any woman who caught his eye (perhaps someone wearing the scandalous shorts he'd mentioned), terrified he might abandon her, and furious that he had not only forgiven her with ease but remained so patient with everything she threw at him. She loved the fact that he so easily broke through her defenses and demolished her emotional walls, but at the same time, she despised it.

His troubles and melancholy dragged her into a pit of sorrow. His stormy moods turned her sideways and sour, tainting her temper to match. She obsessed over his safety when he was away, and she worried about his heart when he was near. Each emotion pulled her in a different direction, a full-on tug-o-war over her mind and heart on the topic of Captain Killian Jones.

Everything inside her was fire and ice when it came to him, and she couldn't nail it down like she had with her other relationships. It was like the ocean, deep, layered, moving, and constantly changing.

The one unquestionable fact of their relationship was that Emma needed Killian. She had needed him to kill Rumpel, to ensure she wouldn't spare him at the last minute. She had needed him as a distraction, and later a lifeline to her humanity, when she was the Dark One. She had needed his plan - and his hope - to prevent her from taking her own life with the dagger. And she needed him now for absolution and redemption.

But did she love him (if she did in fact love him) because she needed him? Or did she need him because she loved him? The former meant she had simply used him and fabricated her feelings in order to justify herself. The latter meant that she spent months tormenting the man she loved because it made her feel powerful. She wasn't sure which was worse but neither was right. 

Misery welled up inside her, and she choked it down. She told him that she would join him tomorrow. She promised to help, and she would keep that promise, no matter how terrible she felt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter comes from the nautical expression _heaving the lead_ , which was a vital task assigned to a specially trained sailor, sometimes called a leadsmen. Knowing the depth of the water is important to sailing, so the leadsmen would measure the depths of the water around the ship with special lines. These lines, or sounding leads, were weighted with up to fifty-six pounds of lead and had knots to mark length. To complete their task, the leadsmen would throw and haul the sounding lead at recurrent intervals to attain an accurate calculation.


	3. All at Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Killian introduces Emma to Anita and Roger Radcliff, the owners of a shop called 101 Fashions. He then takes her on their first date in a Land without Magic.

They left early the next day, less than an hour after dawn, and the morning was gloomy and gray. Emma wrapped her long coat around herself to guard from the cold, for the clothing of this realm wasn't enough against the weather.

Senior took them to shore in a lifeboat and left them at an abandoned dock.

"It's just us?" she asked.

"Aye, love. When we're ready to return, we need only tell Sidney, and one of them will come and pick us up."

"I thought Robin had a lead on Roland," she protested.

"Indeed," he replied. "But I've been assured that Red and Robin have sufficient materials aboard the Jolly Roger to continue on that particular endeavor. Should they find any reason to come to shore, Senior has agreed to remain aboard."

"So, what are we doing?"

"I've planned a bit of an excursion for us, a sort of outing, starting with a few errands whilst exploring the city. Are you prepared for our first adventure in a new realm, Swan?"

She kissed his cheek and took his arm, doing her best to smile. He lead the way off the rickety dock and escorted her across a beautiful beach, walking effortlessly while her feet slipped over the sands.

* * *

Killian set a leisurely pace, describing all the oddities he'd learned about in this realm so far, such as the buses, cars (also called automobiles), trains, airplanes, and traffic signals. Their first stop was to a store where he sold the silver goblets and silverware that he'd brought from the ship, giving them an influx of cash. He then took her on a quick tour of Portland, Maine such as he'd experienced it, and she lit up as she watched people milling about the crowded streets.

She was definitely happier than she was the night previous or even this morning, which meant his plan was working.

He led her to an early lunch at a pizza parlor, though for the life of him he couldn't explain what a pizza was exactly was. Emma hastily gobbled down her portion.

"Anita and Roger recommended this place," he explained.

"Who?"

"They run One-hundred-and-one Fashions, which just so happens to be our next stop."

"Let me guess," Emma said. "They're the helpful people you're not sure we should trust."

"I'm only being cautious," he replied. "Besides, many of the garments of this realm require the individual to try them on to ensure fit. You'll require more than one pair of trousers and a few shirts to live in this realm, will you not?"

"Well, if they pointed you to this pizza stuff, they're already in my good graces."

So he led her through the streets to a store with a sign that read 101 Fashions in large red print. It had opened before noon, and a handful of people were milling within.

He pointed out a gangly blond man in his forties and the shorter and slightly younger redhead next to him.

"Mister Jones!" the man said. "Good to see you back. Are you here for your special order?"

"Aye," he replied. "May I introduce Miss Emma Swan. Emma, this is Mister Roger Radcliff and Misses Anita Radcliff, proprietors of One-hundred-and-one Fashions."

"So wonderful to meet you," Anita said. "Mister Jones here went on and on about you, Miss Swan."

"Did he now?" Emma asked.

"How else could I hope to find you appropriate attire?" Killian asked, fighting the blush that touched his cheeks.

"I'm happy say, we've prepared for just that," Roger said. "I hope you don't mind, my wife and I may have gone a tad overboard."

"Mister Jones mentioned that you don't have electricity where you're staying, but a phone is an absolute necessity in this day and age," Anita said. "If there's ever an emergency, you'll need it to call for help. I took the liberty of putting together a kind of care package with that down payment you made, Mister Jones. I hope you don't mind."

"You didn't need to go to all that trouble," Emma said kindly.

"But of course we did," Roger said. "As we explained to Mister Jones and Mister Mills, we emigrated here fifteen years ago. Left everything we had behind."

"Except for our dogs, of course," Anita added. 

"Yes, of course," Roger continued. "Anyway, were it not for the generosity and kindness of those who'd gone through the process before us, we'd still be struggling to adjust. We probably wouldn't even have this store."

"So whenever we can, we like to pass it along," Anita said.

"Where did you come from?" Emma asked. "I mean, where was home before you moved here?"

"We lived in London, England," Anita replied.

"I was something of a Luddite," Roger added. "I was a musician by trade and never bothered with spending money on anything new unless it was absolutely necessary. I had a rotary till I moved here and Anita demanded I invest in a proper mobile phone."

"Took _months_ ," Anita added. "He went through several burner phones."

"Sorry, I'm new to this whole phone thing," Emma said. "Would you be willing to show me?"

Killian watched as Emma spoke with Anita and Roger. She played the part of the clueless newcomer well, even though they had discussed much of the information over their morning walk and lunch. Eventually, other customers called Roger away for aid, leaving Emma and Killian with Anita, who walked them through how to use the burner phones from their care package. She tried to explain the internet, but it was beyond Killian. He hoped Emma picked something of it up.

After they spoke about searching 'the web' - whatever the bloody hell that meant - Anita took Emma into the backroom. Killian had asked for travel clothing that would hold up in the woods, which Roger referred to as 'hiking' and 'camping' equipment. Apparently, traveling by foot in this country wasn't a feasible means of transit but instead a rustic pastime. He also requested a casual attire and one special outfit he hoped she'd enjoy.

"KILLIAN!" he heard from the backroom. 

Perhaps he'd overstepped on that last one.

* * *

Emma stood in the backroom wearing a little red dress. The cut was simple and highlighted the curve of her bust and her hips. Elegant and crisp. But the material was so light, and the undergarments that went with it were nothing more than bra and panties, no slip or anything between her skin and the dress.

She looked wonderful in the mirror, but she felt scandalous, even though most of her skin was covered. The skirt ended near her knees, not nearly short enough to be problematic, and the neck cut was wide across the shoulders and revealed little cleavage.

"KILLIAN!" she shouted.

He came to the backroom immediately, and he stopped by the door, his jaw dropping open so wide it was almost comical.

"See something you like?" she asked, her voice somewhere between amused and furious.

"I, uh... you look lovely, Swan."

She'd called him back here to yell at him, to tell him she couldn't wear this out in public, but the look on his face and the tremble in his voice erased her protests.

"It's a perfect fit," Anita said. "And your boyfriend is right, it's quite lovely on you, if you don't mind me saying. Sexy but also elegant."

"Thanks," Emma replied, her brain hiccupping slightly on the word 'boyfriend.'

"Since I don't need to adjust this, I can set it aside," Anita said. "We've got a number of other items set aside, and I'm sure you'd like to choose a few things for yourself. I can adjust them for you, though depending on the alterations, it may take a few days."

"Right, well, I better change, I guess," she said.

"Could I have a moment?" Killian asked.

"Of course, I'll be out front," Anita replied before she left.

"You do look stunning, Swan," he said, the smile on his face becoming wolfish.

"You didn't need to ask her to leave to tell me that."

"Indeed. I wanted to inquire after your thoughts on the subject of our two helpful friends," he said quickly.

"They haven't been lying," she said. "They left their home behind and came to a new place, and someone helped them find their footing."

"I sense a 'but' coming," Killian said.

"This person who helped them," Emma said. "Whoever it is, they're profoundly indebted to them. I asked Anita why they came here, and she said they came for a fresh start. That was the first lie she told me."

"You think their reasons nefarious?"

"I think they were running," Emma replied. "They came here to escape. That person they're indebted to did more than settle them in. They saved them from something or someone who still terrifies them."

"You got all that because she lied about a fresh start?" Killian asked, impressed.

"A little more than that," she replied. "Anita mentioned that they both liked you and Robin because of your accents. Reminded them of home."

"Their speech is closer to yours than mine or Robin's."

"I'm guessing they got rid of theirs when they moved here," she said. "That tells me they miss home, but they can't go back. Not even to visit. That and a hundred other little things."

"Do you trust them?" he asked.

"They really do want to help," she replied. "Unless whoever they're indebted to wants to do us harm, which I can't imagine as we haven't had the chance to piss anyone off here, I think we're good."

"Do you like the dress? Red thought you'd want something more... revealing."

"No," she said quickly. "This was really sweet of you."

"Glad you like it," he said. "Would you wear it on our date tonight?"

"Our what?"

"I did tell you I made arrangements."

"Yeah, but you didn't say date..."

"I'm saying it now," he replied. "Unless you'd rather not."

"No, I do," she said. "But I'll only wear this if you wear something formal from this realm."

He smiled and said, "Well, then, I'd better find something."

* * *

Roger showed Killian how to use the internet on the store's computer. He assured him that everything done on the shining box could also be done on the burner phones Anita had purchased. Roger went on to explain the importance of utilizing something called a 'wifi network' while navigating the internet on the phone, for if he didn't, he'd use up something else called a 'data plan,' which apparently would cost him quite a bit of coin.

It made no sense whatsoever, but he nodded along as if he understood.

Killian was impressed by the amount of information available in this realm. Both maps and charts were freely available, as long as he knew where to look, and there were even 'sites' (as Roger called them) that enabled people to map out possible routes. 

In the Enchanted Forest, and many realms besides, detailed maps such as these were rare and incredibly valuable. He had spent five years and a small fortune obtaining a map that detailed the Dark Castle and its lands. Few cartographers had the skill, and even fewer were willing to risk angering the Dark One for coin. He eventually found a young woman who kept her promise, and in return he gave her a chest of gold and emeralds after taking her to Arendelle.

His curiosity got the better of him, so he asked, "Who creates these maps? It must take years to craft something so complete with so many versions that we've seen with the... what was it called?"

"Zoom," Roger replied. "I confess that I don't understand much of the inner workings, but I believe these are actually computer-generated, which basically means some engineer came up with a program that takes all the photos and makes the map automatically rather than anyone having to do it by hand."

Killian understood not a bloody word, and his expression must've given it away, as Roger gave him a sympathetic shrug. The pirate suddenly felt an urge to display his understanding of something in this strange realm. 

"Photos, you said," he began. "Like the ones you have up on your walls, captured by cameras, yes?"

"Indeed."

"Where do they come from?" he asked. "They must've been captured from a very grand height."

"Some are taken by unmanned aircrafts that fly over the area," Roger replied brightly. "I believe satellite images as also used."

"Satellite?"

"Yeah, the things that they send into outer space to orbit the planet," Roger said. "They can capture images from all over the world."

Killian shook his head before leaning his face into his hands, frustrated and concerned. Magical maps made without magic was one thing, but sending artifacts off the face of the bloody world was quite another. It was unbelievable, especially given his own misadventures involving the world's edge.

He felt a strong hand on his shoulder. He dropped his hands when the man started speaking. 

"Listen, mate," Roger said. "I know exactly how you feel. When Anita and I came here, I couldn't even type. I've no idea how computers work, though not for lack of trying. The good news is you don't have to understand them. You figure out how to get what you want from them, and that's enough. Except when they break, but there's experts for that."

"Wonderful," Killian mumbled.

"What I mean is, I know what it's like coming to a new world with someone you love and need to protect," Roger said. "It gets easier, I promise you."

Killian nodded, though he doubted he'd ever understand this world. He'd taken a stroll along the harbor the day before and found the seafaring vessel of this realm just as baffling as the communication devices. Some semblance of the shape was familiar, but few had any obvious means of propulsion. Some had great chimneys protruding from the deck where the sails should be, billowing black-and-gray smoke. Somehow the larger ships were made of metal rather than wood. He wondered how a pirate captain could survive in a world where blacksmiths crafted vessels.

Bloody hell, did they even have blacksmiths in this realm?

He felt overwhelmed, and he couldn't lose his head. Not tonight. 

"Could you show me how to use this again, mate?" Killian asked. "We'll require a safe walking route."

"You might be better off calling a cab," Roger replied.

_Bloody hell!_

* * *

It was like a dream, filled with disjoined sounds, moments of fleeting beauty, and strange tableaux jumbled together. Emma drank it all in.

 _Our first date._ The thought kept running through her mind, making her heart race more than once. Killian's attire didn't help matters. He wore charcoal black trousers with a matching short coat over a crisp white button-up and a brilliant red vest that suited him perfectly and matched her dress. She found it difficult to keep her eyes off him. He was definitely suited to this realm.

They took something called a cab, which Emma didn't like as a means of transport, to a place called a movie theater. There was a huge screen that somehow housed entire worlds. It was like a theatre performance but completely different. She wasn't sure what to make of it, least of all the fact that it was a "special showing" of a feature called _Love, Actually_. The story it told was full of references to things she didn't understand, but its message of love being everywhere touched her.

Afterward, Killian led her on a brief night time stroll through the streets of Portland. More than one person stared after her, no doubt because of the dress, and when they walked away from the movie theatre, several short whistles sounded, followed by a chorus of nonsensical dribble from men. Things like 'wow, baby', 'hey honey', and 'yowzah!' filled the night air.

As the Savior, she'd experienced something like this a few times before while in disguise, but she had never before been the recipient. She didn't like the attention, especially right now, when she had neither her magic nor her sword to protect herself.

She knew that if Killian had his cutlass, he'd brandish it at the knaves who dared direct such vocalizations at her. Instead, he stepped closer to her and wrapped his arm around her lower back, blocking the view of many of cat-callers. She tucked her arm around his waist in return, and they walked like that until they reached the restaurant.

Somehow, Killian managed not only to acquire the requisite   
the tickets for the movie theatre but also had arranged a table at the restaurant before their arrival. She wondered if his travel to other strange realms had prepared him for all this. How else could he remain so calm in the face of such drastic differences?

She bit her tongue. Was she _jealous_ of Killian? His intent for the night was to make her happy, and his only reason for coming to this realm was to help her find her son. 

Her envy was completely out of place, but there was no denying it now. It was as if he'd always lived here. He somehow fit here, just as he had in the Enchanted Forest. She, on the other hand, couldn't stop adjusting her dress, tugging at the straps even though they hadn't moved. All the attention she attracted made her nervous, and she wasn't sure if that had to do with her lack of familiarity with local custom or the fact that she was armed with nothing more than a sharpened letter opener inside the tiny bag Anita insisted she take with her.

She avoided eye contact with everyone except Killian, and her sudden bout of shyness didn't phase him at all. He simply spoke on her behalf, asking her what she wanted and then repeating it. As they waited for the host to lead them to their table, she felt butterflies in her stomach, and it was only then that she realized how tense she had been for the past few minutes. Her fists were balled and her knees were locked.

At the table, she busied herself with the menu, pretending the exotic food intrigued her, but truth be told, she wasn't hungry anymore. Killian had obviously read her anxiety, and she worried it would ruin the evening.

"Everything all right, love?" he asked after a few minutes of silence.

"Maybe a little overwhelmed."

"If you'd like, we can retired for the evening."

"No, I'm okay," she replied. "I'm invested in finding out what this meal will be like."

He seemed satisfied with the answer, but it was a complete lie. She wasn't overwhelmed, she was afraid. She'd lived so long with magic as a part of her that she wasn't sure who she was without it.

"So has the Hart provided you with any insights?" he asked.

"I've seen them all," she replied. "But so far I think it's all from the first few days they were here. My mom, my dad, Henry, and a woman named Belle. She was... well, she..."

"Was the wife of the Crocodile," he said.

"You know her?"

"Indeed. In fact, I rescued her once."

"What? From who?"

"The Evil Queen," he replied. "She had locked Belle in a tower."

"I'm guessing you didn't do it just to save a damsel in distress," Emma said.

"Alas, I was not the man I am today," he replied. "I had heard news that a noble lady had become the servant of the Dark One in exchange for the safety of her father's people. So naturally I extended a helping hand to Duke Maurice. He told me he'd pardon me and all my crew - past and future crew - should I return her to his kingdom."

"And you did?" she asked.

"Aye, that I did," he replied. "Though I will admit, I owe the lady quite an apology."

"For what?"

"I wanted to know the Dark One's secrets. In my defense, this was before she wed the beast. As far as I knew, she was forced into servitude as payment for a deal. I had no idea she actually... cared for him."

"She didn't tell you anything, did she?" she asked.

"In fact, she told me quite a lot," he replied. "Unfortunately, all her comments were in regards to my behavior. I'm afraid I rather lost my temper and locked her in the brig for nearly the entire journey home. Had it not been for Mister Smee, I might've let her rot."

"I'm glad you didn't," she replied. "She's a kind woman. She'll see you've changed and forgive you."

"Alas, I haven't changed, not physically anyway, save for the hand," he said. "Perhaps you should speak with her before introductions are made."

"You think Belle is going to, what, throw a book at your head?" Emma asked, amused.

"Laugh as you will, Swan, but on my word, that woman assaulted me with an oar," he replied. "Don't let her small frame deceive you. When she hits you with something, you feel it."

They laughed together as their food arrived, and something changed. Emma felt much better, and her appetite returned in full force.

"So tell me, how did you survive the wrath of the Evil Queen after stealing her prisoner?" Emma asked.

 

She knew Killian figured her out before desert, but he didn't question her or press the matter. He kept the conversation light, and when the final course arrived, he told the server he'd like to arrange payment immediately.

She told him of a particularly grueling battle between herself and an enchanted murder of crows over dessert, pausing only when the server brought them a piece of paper with the neatest print she'd ever seen.

But their night was far from over, as Killian ordered another cab, which dropped them off at one of the many buildings that reached up into the sky.

"What is this place?" she asked him quietly.

"In this realm, this is an inn," he replied.

"Aren't we going back to our cabin tonight?"

"If you'd like," he replied. "But when you were going on about those evil bloody birds, you were able to turn the tide on them because you knew the terrain so well. Now, should a violent siege of herons descent upon us this very moment, I fear we'd have no other recourse than to flee."

"Because we don't know this place at all," she said, cottoning on.

"My point precisely. Perhaps spending more time here will help enlighten us."

"And if this is an inn, then I'm guessing the room has a bed."

"There's really only one way to be certain, Swan."

"I do have one question. A siege of herons, really? Do you have a dire fear of them or something?"

"I'll have you know that, save for harpies and rocs, there's no bird alive that frightens me," he replied. "As for the selection of herons, I thought it was better than, say, a muster of peacocks or a pandemonium of parrots."

She laughed and said, "You're making those up."

"Surely Princess Emma was taught such things," he said. "You did choose the surname Swan, did you not?"

* * *

Killian deposited their bags by the desk as Emma disappeared into the bathroom. Something had been bothering her since they arrived at the restaurant, and nothing he said or did seemed to alleviate it. At the same time, she skirted around it, changing the topic whenever he asked.

A pit settled in his stomach as he stared at the enormous bed. On the ship, the close quarters could compound hard times, but it would be so easy to drift apart in a bed like this.

"Captain?" Emma said.

He turned to her, and his heart leapt into his throat. She had discarded the incredible dress in favor of an enticing undergarment. He could nearly see through it, but it covered both her breasts while separating them, revealing the skin between them down to her navel, meeting on either side at the lace stretched between her two hip bones, barely concealing her mound and stopping above her thighs.

"Do you like it?" she asked, turning around to reveal her sumptuous form, as the garment made no attempt to cover her ass in any way.

His pants became uncomfortably tight, and his doubts over tonight vanished in an instant.

To answer her, he went to her with a growl in his throat, enveloping her in a long, deep kiss, his hands wantonly exploring her.

She nipped at his bottom lip as she pushed his suit's jacket off his shoulders. Unfortunately, the two bottom buttons were still done, so it caught at his waist. She couldn't get the buttons undone, so he quickly undid one, which was just enough to allow it to fall to his ankles.

Before he had time to step out of the jacket, her lips crushed against his, and she attacked the buttons on his shirt. He followed her lead, running his fingers along the sexy lingerie, searching for a clasp or knot or button. She shoved his shirt off, allowing it to fall carelessly to the floor before she grabbed at his trousers.

He kissed down her chin and neck as his hands explored the front of the her undergarment, his fingers circling her nipples. He pinched them, through the material, and she groaned as she arched into his touch.

She ran her hand in his hair and cupped his ass, sighing as they broke apart for air.

"Killian, I can't figure out how to get your trousers off," she whispered.

"Oh, thank god," he mumbled. "I haven't any clue as to how to remove your enticing undergarment, love."

"To be honest, neither do I," she replied. "It took me thirty minutes to get it on."

He pressed his forehead into hers as they both laughed for a moment. He undid his trousers and stepped out of the tangle of cloths collecting around his legs.

"Swan, if you can't figure out how to remove that, I'll be forced to cut it off you," he said. He came closer to her, sliding his fingers up her thigh. "It'd be a shame to ruin such a fine thing."

Emma smiled as she tugged at the lingerie. It was enough to make his blood boil, despite the few hiccups. He wrapped an arm around her, guiding her to the bed. She finally freed her breasts, giving him the opportunity to remove the rest of the treacherous garment.

She crawled onto the bed, rolling onto her back and looking up at him through hooded eyes, darkened with desire. He removed his boxers and began kissing his way up her leg, running his tongue along her inner thigh as he joined her, his body covering hers.

She pawed at him, coaxing him to come closer. He nipped at her hipbones before proceeding to her chest, licking and sucking at her nipples. She reached for him, but he made her wait, taking time to lavish attention on her fair skin. So she fisted a hand in his hair and ran the other along his back, dragging her nails against his bare skin when his fingers teased her entrance.

"Fuck, Emma, you're soaking," he said as he thrust another finger inside.

Her back bowed up as she moaned, and he needed to see her face and taste her lips. She ground her hips on his hand as he shifted. At the last minute, she sat up a bit, and his head crashed into her chin. 

He heard the catastrophic clash of her teeth coming together, hard, though the pain blossoming on the crown of his head distracted him slightly. They both released very different kinds of groans, and he stopped his ministrations, worried he'd hurt her.

"Emma, I'm sorry, are you all right?" he asked, panic apparent in his voice.

She laughed.

"Laughing at a man in bed is bad form, love," he said. "But given the circumstances, I understand."

* * *

Emma couldn't stop laughing. She still wanted him, as her soaking folds made perfectly clear, but he'd never head-butted her in bed before. 

"What is wrong with us?" she asked. 

"It's the bloody garments of this realm, and all these bulbs that shine," he said. "They're putting me off."

"Killian, please shut up and fuck me," she said.

"I do as you command, my queen," he said.

He got up and kneeled over her, his hands lightly touching her skin. This time, when he kissed her, it was languid and slow, his tongue exploring her mouth as he lined himself up with her. 

She took hold of his erection and stroked him, enjoying the indulgent moans, before guiding him to where she needed him. He sank into her to the hilt, igniting the pleasure of fullness and that sensation of stretch and burn. She dug her nails into his back, and he started to move.

His hips started with a slow roll, and she met his thrusts, pushing him to go faster. But for a few minutes, their pacing didn't match, and their movements became awkward. He adjusted, changing the angle and pace, putting them back on track. 

His fingers circled her clit as he thrust deep into her, and she felt like this was their first time all over again. Her climax hit her abruptly, and she screamed his name. He came not long after, groaning as he collapsed over her body.

"You are incredible," he said. "And there's nothing wrong with us, love."

"Mmmmm-hmmmm," she replied in agreement, curling against him, drifting off to sleep.

 

Emma woke up a few hours later, her chin still smarting. He'd said there was nothing wrong between them, but he was wrong.

In the restaurant, she thought she was afraid and anxious, but that wasn't it. She wasn't fearful, but nervous, like she had been during the first few dates she had with Neal. She had liked him, but she wasn't sure what to say or how to act.

The real question was, why did she feel that way now? She knew Killian Jones. She spent months traveling with him, enjoying meals with him, and sharing his bed, yet here she was, anxious about their date. After all, what did they have in common now that there were no more Crocodiles to slay? Once she found her son and parents, what would Killian and her do together? What would they talk about when they ran out of stories to share?

She didn't know, and she wasn't sure how to talk to him about it. So she decided a little seduction would ease her mind about it all. Obviously that plan didn't quite work out.

They clearly had a lot to talk about about, if their oddly jerky and awkward (but still mind-blowing and satisfying) sex was any indication.

She watched the man sleep for a few minutes, wondering if the uncertainty that was inside her would go away soon.

* * *

"MISS SWAN!" someone shouted. "CAPTAIN!"

Killian's eyes opened. He'd woken at dawn but decided to sleep in with his Swan, which explained why he was still in bed at noon. Emma was in the shower, going by the sound of it.

"CAPTAIN! MISS SWAN!"

"Bloody hell," Killian said as he donned trousers. He found his compact Magic Mirror and said, "What, Sidney?"

"It's Red and Henry, uhhh, I mean Senior," Sidney said. "They've been abducted."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter comes from the nautical expression _all at sea_ , which applied to any vessel (boat, ship, raft, etc.) that was lost out of sight of land. The phrase now applies to anyone or anything in a state of disarray and bewilderment.

**Author's Note:**

> Fear not! For Her Dark Works continues with Episode #14 "[Slack Tide](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5738104/chapters/13223014)."


End file.
